Stephen King Library Policeman Novels & Stories

“Who was the victim?” “Her name was Emily Jenkins. She was our librarian.” “Any friends or family you know of?” Morales quipped. “Not exactly. She was engaged to a teacher here by the name of Mr Gregory Hale, but that's about all the information we have for now.” Sheriff McKenna immediately recognized the name—the man he visited a week ago. Dragging a hand through his hair, a pit of unease hollowed the Sheriff's insides. For what felt like the first time in his career, he was lost on what to do. He had never encountered a case as odd as this.

But now, as the sun sets on another weary day, the silence is shattered by an insistent knock on the door. I shuffle towards the entrance, my steps heavy with a weariness that extends beyond mere exhaustion. Opening the door, I'm met with the grim faces of two police officers, their badges glinting. "Mr. Xavier Knight?" one of them asks, his voice laced with stern authority. "Yes," I manage to respond, irritated by their pretense as though they don’t know who I am. "We're here to take you in for questioning regarding the death of Alexandra Westwood," the other officer states. I almost laugh at how far Kendra has gone to taste my patience but what she forgets is I can only tolerate as much.

Without wasting time, we moved straight to the house as Detective Joe entered a full detective mode. The front door was partially open when we pushed in. I was really afraid when I stepped into this house. His flashlight helped hide the way as we walked in effortlessly. "This way less to the library", I whispered as we changed the route. Moving across the hallway, the peeling wallpaper reminds of the betrayal of Hunter and his haunting face. I tried as much as possible to focus on reality not that wild illusion. On entering the library, I realized that it was ransacked by the police and probably the board earlier on.

"Have mine. No worries, I don't got cooties." "Mmm," she tilted her head in an attempt to nod her thanks then stared at her palms for a moment before she realized what she was doing. She clasped her hands in her lap and looked up slowly. When she reached Mr. Policeman's face, he was staring at her with a slight arch to one eyebrow, but other than that, he seemed expressionless. His eyes were mesmerizing. They were hazel, medium brown, rimmed, getting lighter in color inwards with flecks of greens, the insides turning almost to liquid gold right before her eyes. She stared at them wondering what liquid gold tasted like. Perhaps somewhat like honey liquor sweet and smooth on the tongue but bur

Kathy wasn’t sure if she’d heard correctly. “Good afternoon, this is Detective Arthur with the Twenty-Second Division of the Baltimore Police Department. I’m looking for Katherine Mills.” A man spoke on the phone, and Kathy didn’t initially understand him. Kathy held up a finger to Parker before she pointed him to the dining room table. She still needed to adjust to having a table for non-work purposes. “Speaking. I’m sorry, is there something wrong? Am I in trouble?” Kathy mouthed the word ‘police’ to Parker when he made motions inquiring about who she spoke to. Parker frowned at her as he took an interest in the call.

‘Can we come in and ask you a few questions? 'Sure, I’m Officer Jones, I work for the LAPA myself, How can I help?’ Wait, what?! I looked at Peyton, She seemed just as horrified and confused as I was. He was a fucking Police Officer?! Damon? The one who seemed to be actively pushing Michael and Luke to do all sorts of things to us, to murder us, who helped hurt both of us that first night, HE is a POLICE OFFICER?! The two uniformed officers came in and Damon shut the door. They looked over at us, sat on the sofa and the woman smiled.

(Kendall's POV ) "What have I gotten myself into?" I muttered under my breath as I fidgeted at the sight of the policeman. At first, I thought Stephen was joking about his last statement but it turned out that he wasn't. "Just three seconds," he reiterated and smirked and he raised three fingers to show that he really meant it. Averting my eyeballs from him to the policemen who looked as though they were predators ready to hunt down their prey. "Good morning sir. Where is the thief?" asked the eldest policeman with a protruding belly and silence answered me.

he'd be back in an hour, and I didn't think an hour was enough to look around for anything else suspicious. I opened the library door that was decorated by the lamp's bright light. If it's spectacular during the day, then at night... it's scary, not because of ghosts, but like a void that muffled the mystery itself. Goosebumps swept over my skin, and I restrained myself from running away. If not now, I don't know when else there will be a chance to do this. I went back to the shelf I came across yesterday and found the book again. Opening it, I pulled my phone out of my nightshirt pocket and took a few pictures, then a picture of the page where Killian's profile is. I sent it straight to Kat

Whoever ratted her out, Kitty knew her skin was about to be fried. "She is a kitty, a small innocent little kitten," Leah thought. Leah turned to see Kitty shaking from her fingertips to her knees. She reached and held her palm, stroking it, hoping to lessen her worry. Kitty looked at her, and she could see Leah wink through her glasses. "Good afternoon, ladies," the policeman said, pulling out to show his badge, under it read Edward Miller, Officer. "Why hello, officer, how may we be of assistance" Leah cheered; Kitty was tongue-tied; she struggled to say anything, so she just smiled.

He felt vulnerable, shoulder slouching forward. Derik placed a bunch of files in his hands. It contained photographs of two police officers. Kevin quickly recognized one of them in the photograph. “Wait… I know this officer. His name’s...” “Murphy Hatfield,” he interrupted. “Was a detective with the Fallout police department. He was recently declared missing until earlier today, when his corpse was found in an old abandoned warehouse,” Derik explained. “I know the story. I found the body.” Looking over at the other police officer in the photograph whom he didn’t recognize, Kevin raised an eyebrow. “Who is the other guy?”